I Could Just Strangle Qu Meimei

Inside the viewing area.

Principal Liu's initially warm smile gradually stiffened as he watched the chaotic scene unfolding on the stage below.

What on earth was going on with the Music Department?

This was nothing short of a direct slap to his face as the school's principal.

Today's anniversary celebration wasn't just an ordinary event—it was a showcase of Guangya's students' talent and capabilities, and it was closely tied to the alumni donations that would follow.

If everything had gone smoothly, it would have been a win-win situation, leaving all parties satisfied.

But now, with the performance in shambles, how could the school face the alumni when accepting their donations afterward?

Was this the level of students Guangya was nurturing now?

Utterly embarrassing.

And to make matters worse, this was the opening act—a disastrous start that cast a shadow over the entire celebration.

Most importantly, among the alumni attending the event were not only business elites but also two prominent figures from the political sphere.

Just thinking about it made Principal Liu's head throb.

"Liang-jie, something seems off..." Xu Shasha released Luo Liang's arm, her delicate brows furrowing slightly.

Her gaze remained fixed on the stage, searching for some plausible explanation amidst the disarray of the performance.

But it was futile—there was no salvaging this.

Luo Liang remained silent, standing still with an outwardly calm expression as she observed the turmoil onstage.

Yet, beneath that composed exterior, her mind was anything but tranquil.

Her daughter was supposed to sing next.

How could she possibly perform under these circumstances?

Nearby, a middle-aged woman slowly lowered her recording phone, her face etched with confusion as she asked,

"Is... is this some kind of experimental performance by the Music Department this year?"

But her question was met with silence.

Everyone knew the truth—even if the piece had been rearranged, there was no denying that the performance had fallen apart.

Calling it "experimental" was nothing more than self-deception.

Mayor Li and Director Zhou exchanged a glance before silently picking up their teacups and taking a sip, offering no comment.

The room gradually quieted, and subtle glances began drifting toward Luo Liang.

After all, Luo Shuning was the Music Department's vice president. If even a small anniversary performance was botched... the Luo family's reputation would be thoroughly humiliated today.

Down below.

In the corridor, Feng Duo's face had turned ashen, as if all vitality had been drained from her.

Her fists were clenched, her expression a mix of disbelief and fury, lips trembling faintly.

She didn’t understand.

Truly didn’t understand.

Why would Qu Meimei dare to sabotage such a critical, high-stakes occasion?

Why?

Hadn’t she and Luo Shuning already compromised again and again?

She had done everything in her power to maintain balance within the club, carefully navigating every relationship—so why had this irreparable disaster still occurred?

The more Feng Duo thought about it, the more frantic she became. A blazing fury surged within her, making her wish she could rush onstage right now and strangle Qu Meimei with her bare hands.

As the department head, she was the one ultimately responsible for this performance.

The Music Department’s years of accumulated prestige would be ruined in a single day.

Feng Duo felt as though she was about to become the department’s greatest failure, the crushing weight of it all nearly suffocating her.

Meanwhile, not far from where she stood—

"I swear I’m not trolling. Think about it—would Guangya students really sabotage their own event on purpose? Of course not!" The speaker was a bright-eyed college junior who, having no classes on Wednesday, had eagerly come to Guangya to enjoy the festivities.

Pausing, he continued to the person beside him,

"This has to be some kind of avant-garde performance. I came to Guangya’s anniversary last year too, and their Music Department was incredible. I still remember this one guitarist with a high ponytail—her skills were flawless, and her energy was electric. Left a lasting impression on me."

"Well, let’s wait and see. You’ve got me curious now," the young man beside him nodded, somewhat swayed by the analysis but still skeptical.

"Just watch—it’s definitely intentional. If I’m wrong, I’ll eat a hundred pounds of dirt," the junior declared confidently, his gaze inadvertently drifting toward Feng Duo in the corridor.

Huh… she kinda looks like that amazing guitarist from last year.

But on closer inspection, no.

Last year’s guitarist had radiated youthful exuberance, bouncing around like a lively little sprite—utterly adorable.

This girl, with her anxious, troubled demeanor, was nothing like that.

Must be my imagination.

Definitely.

Onstage.

Ren Lei was seriously considering abandoning the piano, sprinting out to buy the biggest bottle of cola she could find, and drenching Qu Meimei from head to toe.

This wasn’t just "crossing the line"—it was outright sabotage.

Qu Meimei was determined to destroy the Music Department.

The more Ren Lei thought about it, the angrier she became. She had warned the department head time and again to replace Qu Meimei, but her requests were always denied.

The reasoning? Aside from Luo Shuning, no one else in the department could match Qu Meimei’s violin skills. For the anniversary performance, they needed the strongest lineup possible.

So they had to endure.

At least until the celebration was over.

But now?

Everything was ruined.

What was Shuning supposed to do now?

How could she possibly sing amid this mess?

Ren Lei’s gaze shifted toward Luo Shuning, but all she could see was her slender, solitary figure.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine the expression on her face right now.

It hurt just thinking about it.

And yet—

Luo Shuning simply listened to the dissonant music, her expression eerily calm, not a trace of panic in sight.

Her eyes held only resolve and composure, as if this had all been expected.

Let it be chaotic.

Let it get even worse.

Her mind drifted back to that Sunday...

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